


Something Really Beautiful

by NoHomoNovak



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Agender Character, Agender Kageyama, Genderfluid Character, Genderfluid Sugawara, Multi, Trans Character, Trans Hinata, haikyuu!! - Freeform, minor daisuga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoHomoNovak/pseuds/NoHomoNovak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Discovering yourself is hard. For Tobio Kageyama, it's a little harder. While juggling genders, grades, volleyball, and parental relationships, a new transfer student brings another element they had never expected: Romance. [This summary is shit I'm so sorry]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I definitely need to write a better intro, but this is a fic I'm writing for my friend about Transboy Hinata and Agender Kageyama.

“Not even December yet and it’s already colder than Kageyama’s sense of humor,” Ryunosuke Tanaka growled, burrowing deeper into the collar of his thick jacket. The Tobio Kageyama in question turned a cool gray stare onto their friend, but didn’t risk a reply. That would mean untucking their scarf from around their face and braving the cold, and that was something the team’s setter was not willing to do.

“Tanaka,” Koshi Sugawara stuttered between chattering teeth, “be nice pl-please. Kageyama has a sm- _small_ sense of humor, I’m sure.”

Daichi Sawamura, the volleyball team’s captain, grinned widely and ruffled Suga’s silver hair. “That’s my sweet vice-president, always looking out for the children.” A flush crept up the 3rd year’s cheeks and ears, but most of the team pretended not to notice. The awkward relationship between their two 3rd year officers was blossoming into something wonderful. The only thing the boys questioned was why it had taken so goddamn long for Daichi to work up the nerve to ask Suga out.

Two 1st years, one tall, blond, with glasses and the other shorter with dark hair and freckles, passed by their upperclassmen with judging stares. A lazy hand reached up to adjust his glasses and Kei Tsukishima opened his mouth to make a snarky comment about their behavior. Fortunately Tadashi Yamaguchi was there to restrain him with a touch and a simple shake of the head. The two were practically inseparable, though oftentimes it seemed as if Tsukishima was aloof or annoyed by Yamaguchi’s presence.

“So when is this new member joining, again?” Yu Nishinoya said anxiously, for perhaps the thirty-fourth time. Ever since the rambunctious, 5’2 libero had received word that the new transfer student was “very small” according to his previous coach’s referral letter, he had been dying to meet him. The next shortest member was Suga: standing at 5’8 inches with his boyfriend at only an inch taller. Kageyama and Tsukishima, both first years, stood at 5’11 and 6’2 respectively, and their resident ace Asahi Azumani balanced them out at exactly 6 feet tall.

“We’re not sure,” Suga answered as their school came into view down the road. “Takeda said he’d be at practice tomorrow, but someone needs to bring him the paperwork and club fee forms tonight. Preferably a first year.”

All eyes fell on Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. As sarcastic and cruel as Tsukishima was, he could at least fake interest well, and Yamaguchi was honest and sweet as honey--perfect for enticing a new member to join the club. Both immediately shook their heads.

“We’ve got a test to make up for chemistry, that’s a no-go,” Yamaguchi offered. “Send someone else.”

“There _is_ no one el-”

“I’ll go.”

Silence colder than the winter air spread thickly across the group.

“Kageyama,” Daichi said cautiously, when it seemed as if no one else would speak, “we’re not saying you’d be a bad fit to visit, but we were hoping whoever went would, you know . . . Socialize a little. Get to know the new guy?”

The setter stopped at the door to the school and tugged their scarf down. Black bangs fell down past their dark eyebrows, but they brushed them back distractedly.

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do it after school. Just give me the paperwork and his address.” Reluctantly Sugawara pulled out the paperwork. Long fingers took the sheets from Suga before they disappeared inside Karasuno.

Even though the warm interior of their high school beckoned through the glass, the volleyball team remained outside for a few seconds, exchanging confused stares. Gusts of wind tugged their hair insistently while the temperature continued to drop.

“He’s never volunteered for something like that before,” Suga mumbled. “I wonder what’s up.”

Tanaka gasped suddenly, causing the other boys to jump. “Maybe Kageyama, our precious setter, has been abducted by aliens! He’s got probes in his brain! We should--”

“You should shut your fucking mouth, Ryunosuke,” Noya laughed, smacking his taller friend upside the head. “I’m sure Kageyama’s mother just told him to make more friends. Let’s go inside before we freeze to death.”

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Kageyama hadn’t always known they were agender. For the first dozen years of their life, being called a boy was the most natural thing in the world. They never thought to question that _gender_ was different from _sex,_ and growing up in a strict Japanese household hadn’t exposed them to many variations of either. It was when they met Sugawara, the previous setter for Karasuno before Kageyama arrived, that the questions started. Suga was genderfluid, but for simplicity’s sake he kept male pronouns (their vice-president was always more concerned about the ease for others). He often went out on dates with Daichi in pretty pastel dresses or showed up to rehearsal in flowery headbands and bows. Kageyama, introverted and isolated from any deep friendships on the team, had not informed the 3rd year about the distress this was causing them, and the confusion that socked them in the stomach every time they looked into a mirror. This was something they would have to figure out for themself.

After practice a few weeks ago, they had casually picked a silver hair bow out of Suga’s bag and put it in their jacket pocket. For five days they did not touch, look, or even think about it until their parents went out on an errand. Then Kageyama stepped into their mother’s bathroom and tucked back their bangs with the large, shimmery bow. They stopped breathing for a few moments until the panic faded from their gray-blue irises and their breath stopped coming quite so fast. Then they pulled out the eyeliner and mascara their mother kept beneath her sink and calmly applied it with steady hands. When they were done, the term _“genderfluid”_ echoing around their head, the mirror reflected exactly what was expected: Kageyama in makeup with a bow in their hair. “Girl” or “female” never entered their head, so they sat down on the floor--well away from the window, lest a neighbor glance in and see the Kageyama’s son in makeup--and pulled out their phone.

**Words related to genderfluid: genderqueer, transgender, agender**

Thanks to their literature class, they knew that “a” meant “without.”

_Without gender? Not he or she . . . They._

For the next half hour Kageyama absorbed every piece of information available about their new label. Everything began to make sense the more they read, and the world opened up with a rush of light and sound. But actually it was just the garage door, as Kageyama’s parents returned home. Fear flooded their chest and they snatched up the nearest paper towel roll and began frantically cleaning the makeup from their angular eyes. By the time the door opened the teenager was in their bed with a book open on their legs. The random page held no meaning, they just wanted to make it look like they had been doing something. Footsteps echoed on the stairs.

_The bow._

No time to think. No place to hide it. Kageyama tugged on the fabric and the clip that attached it to their hair, but it was stuck. _It won’t come out, why won’t it come out?_

“Tobio?” Their mother called casually through the door. “Are you still awake?”

Gritting their teeth, Kageyama ripped out the bow along with a few dozen of their hair. Scalp aching, they stuffed the damning item under their pillow just as their mother pushed open the door. She smiled warmly at her son and tapped her wrist.

“It’s almost midnight, Tobio, and you’ve got school tomorrow.” Cautiously, as if her child would kick her out if she drew too close, Mrs. Kageyama perched on the edge of their bed. “Do you need a ride tomorrow?”

“No mom,” they mumbled, rubbing the corner of one eye. “I can walk, just like I always do.”

She sighed. “I just worry you know. I know you’re almost grown-up, but to me you’re still my little boy.”

Kageyama hid a wince. _Boy. That’s what I am, right?_

“Go to sleep darling, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” She had pressed a kiss to their forehead and left without ever seeing the tears pooling in her child’s eyes.

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

That was why Tobio Kageyama, the most stoic and isolated member of the Karasuno volleyball team, was so interested in going to this new kid’s house. In fact, they would have preferred _anyone’s_ house to their own. Every time one of their parents called them “son” or “young man” a shudder would go through their core. It was just so wrong. It wasn’t as bad when their teammates did it, but it still left a mark, just as the skin from the bow was still slightly tender, even after a week.

Shoyo Hinata’s house was nondescript: green shutters on a cream finish with black tiles on the sloping roof. One story, maybe a finished basement, just enough for two parents and their “very small” child. Kageyama knocked on the door. With barely a pause it opened, and a woman with dark orange hair and light brown eyes beamed out at him. The crown of her hair barely reached Kageyama’s shoulder.

“Hello! Please come inside.” The teen was bustled out of the cold into this strange home, immediately assaulted with the smell of baked goods and a swell of orchestral music. “I hope you like banana bread, it’s fresh out of the oven. Do you have the paperwork for Shoyo?”

There was an awkward pause as they struggled to sort through the sensory overload of the Hinata household.

“. . . Yes? I mean, y-yes I like banana bread and yes I have Hinata’s papers. Sorry. I’m Tobio Kageyama, I’m in his year at school.”

If anything, her smile grew even wider as she regarded Kageyama’s struggling. “Well you seem like a nice boy. And calling him “Hinata,” so polite. Shoyo’s doing some remodeling in his room so it’s an awful mess, but why don’t you have a seat in the living room. I’ll send him down and bring you guys some bread and milk.”

Before she had even finished talking, Kageyama was standing in the living room and the mother’s voice was trailing away up the stairs. They sat down on a worn leather chair in the center of the room and folded their hands between their knees. Unpacked boxes were stacked in the corner, filled with family photos and scrapbooks. Kageyama had to fight the urge to stand up and paw through the boxes, just for something to do. Practically nothing was more awkward than being alone in a strange home.

“Who are you?”

Or maybe not fully alone? There was an incredibly small girl with bright ginger hair standing at the room’s entrance with a scowl on her face.

“I’m, uh . . . I’m your brother’s friend.”

“No you aren’t.” Without any invitation, she ventured closer until she was practically standing on Kageyama’s size 13 feet. “Sho doesn’t have any friends. We just got here.”

“Volleyball. I’m on his volleyball team . . . I have paperwork.” _Stupid. Like this little girl is going to understand what I’m bringing to her big brother._

“Natsu, you’re not bothering our guest . . . Are you?” Mrs. Hinata had returned with a plate of warm banana bread slices and two mugs of milk. The look she gave her daughter was surprisingly stern, but Natsu just put on a sheepish grin and skipped out of the room. “I apologize for my daughter, sometimes she thinks she has more power than she actually does. Shoyo should be down in a minute, Tobio dear, just be a bit patient.”

“I’m in no rush, Mrs. Hinata. Thank you for the milk.” After a final soft smile, she disappeared back into the house. Kageyama relaxed into the cushions of the chair, exhaling deeply.

 _This is home,_ Kageyama thought to themself. _Warm bread and friendly banter between parent and child, not separation and take-out if anyone remembers to give me money._

“Kageyama?”

Instinctively they rose at the sweet, rich voice, and got their first look at Shoyo Hinata.

He _was_ small. Taller than Noya, granted, but his hair added a few centimeters to his height. Every lock of that flaming orange mane was going in a separate direction, like each piece was repelled by another. Thick lashes framed eyes like liquid amber, and the nose between them was tilted up in a ski slope sprayed with freckles. He smiled wide with straight, white teeth. Lean muscle was visible on his thin arms and calves. Obviously he was no novice to hard work or volleyball conditioning. So intent on drinking up this human sun ray with their eyes, Kageyama realized the silence was descending into discomfort.

“I’m Kageyama, y-yes. Tobio Kageyama. Nice to meet you, Hinata, I’ve got your paperwork.”

The boy rolled his eyes at the stack in his teammate’s hand and snatched up a piece of bread.

“Better get started then,” he mumbled around his food. “I’d like to have this done before practice tomorrow.”

“It shouldn’t take too long. These forms always look threatening, but it’s just a bunch of useless words and blank spaces. Kind of like our wing spiker, Tanaka.”

Hinata almost choked on his bread and a laugh simultaneously. They handed him a mug and the boy gulped it gratefully. After it was certain he wasn’t going to choke to death, he shot a stunning smile in Kageyama’s direction.

“Tobio Kageyama, I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this and the next two chapters are pre-written, but I'm trying to space them out a little bit, once I catch up to where I've stopped writing I'll be posting chapters regularly once a week (fingers crossed). There are not nearly enough trans Hinata/agender Kageyama fics out there, so I'd like to keep this one running as long as I'm able.

Needless to say, Hinata did get along very well with both Kageyama and the rest of the team. Though small (only two inches taller than Noya, much the libero’s disappointment), the new boy could jump and slam the ball into the other court with a spiker’s solid intuition. As his setter, he and Kageyama were together for most of the practices and came to heavily trust each other in just a few short weeks. The team was stronger than they’d ever been before, thanks to Hinata’s drive, motivation, and inspirations to the volleyball children. The ginger worked incredibly hard. Arriving early, staying late to serve with Kageyama, and never missing a single practice.

Then one day he just wasn’t there.

Everyone was concerned. As the wind blew icy cold outside, the inside of the gym seemed just as chilly without the Karasuno Sun. Time seemed to drag on forever, but finally the three hour practice ended. As Kageyama put together their things to leave, Suga touched their arm.

“I know it’s late, Kageyama,” he said softly. “But could you stop by Hinata’s house? Just to see if he’s alright?”

They were tempted to say no until Tanaka opened his fat mouth.

“No, Suga, he can’t. He’s got stuff to do.”

_He._ That’s what their parents would be calling them when they returned home.

“I’ll go. It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

Daichi ruffled their hair affectionately. “You could _study._ I hope you’re aware that our rule still stands. If anyone’s grades drop below a C, they can’t participate in the club until they pull it up.”

Grumbling, the setter ducked out of the captain’s reach and readjusted their pitch black bangs.

“Don’t worry, I have all A’s. Maybe you should ask Tanaka how _his_ grades are.”

They ran out to Tanaka’s roaring.

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Hinata’s house was practically Kageyama’s at this point, so when they showed up on the boy’s doorstep at 9 o’clock at night, Mrs. Hinata showed no surprise. However, for the first time since they had met her, she looked . . . Uneasy.

“Um, Tobio now really isn’t the best time.” A quick glance over her shoulder let Kageyama know that something seriously wasn’t right.

“Is, uh . . . Is Hinata okay?”

A pause. “He’s just--”

“It’s alright, mom. He can come in.”

As soon as Kageyama stepped into the house, their fingers started tingling. It was cold outside, sure, but the temperature was up way too high in the living room. It took a moment for their eyes to land on Hinata. Curled on the couch under several blankets, the boy’s skin was pasty and his hair was flat on one side, as if he had just been sleeping.

“Did I wake you up?” Kageyama asked guiltily. “I can always come back--”

“No, no it’s fine.” With a small groan, Hinata pulled himself into a sitting position. Subconsciously, Kageyama’s gaze ran down his narrow chest to the strange blanket wrapped around his lower torso. A cord protruded from one corner and disappeared behind the couch. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Shoyo.” Almost forgetting his mother had been standing there, both teenagers jumped at her voice. “If you’re feeling up to it, maybe you could take Tobio up to your room?” With a quick jerk of the head, she drew their attention to the kitchen doorway, where Natsu’s humming could be heard.

Then Kageyama began to realize how serious this conversation was going to be. _Whatever it is, Hinata doesn’t want his little sister to know. The weird blanket . . . Missing practice . . . He must have cancer._ Their stomach dropped as Hinata wearily got to his feet and led them to the staircase. Staring at the back of that bright orange head, they thought of everything they would miss if their spiker died. _That little head-tilt he does when he’s confused. The noises he makes when we deliver a solid play. When he comforts someone when they don’t think they’ve done their best. The way his hands look when they’re cold. The knowledge that no matter what’s happening on the court when I put the ball in the air he will be there to slam it down._

_When did I become so reliant on this strange boy?_ Kageyama asked themself as they rounded the corner to Hinata’s room. It struck them that Hinata had never invited them into his room. Every time they got together at his house they would stay in the living room or study at the kitchen table. “It’s under construction,” Mrs. Hinata had said that first day. Was it still? Or . . .

His back to his setter, Hinata paused in front his door, shoulders slumped. “Kageyama . . . Please don’t hate me after this, alright?”

Now they were confused. “Hate you? Why would I--”

Hinata opened his door and flicked on the light.

The walls were cream, and a white fan began rotating on the ceiling. Posters of various movies or bands fluttered in the breeze created. A desk was in one corner, cluttered with classwork, a bookshelf was packed full of novels, and across from that was . . . The bed. Hinata’s twin mattress was covered in a pale pink bedspread with large, open flowers.

Kageyama blinked. Smaller things around the room began to come into focus: the purple trashcan under his desk, a softball trophy on the bottom shelf of the bookcase, the white floral radio next to stacks of CD cases. Flashes of feminine tastes paired with Hinata’s action movie and video games posters and black lamps. Some strange clash of both genders.

_Agender._ They couldn’t dare to hope that their closest friend was the same as they were. The disappointment would be crushing if Hinata died from cancer. _Hinata._ The boy ( _Is he still a boy? Is it okay to call him that? Wait, stupid, it doesn’t matter he can’t read my thoughts_ ) had both hands shoved in his pockets. Now that Kageyama had finished gawking like an imbecile, Hinata perched on the corner of his girly bed. Kageyama spun the desk chair around and pulled it close enough so that their knees were almost touching.

Hinata took a deep breath. “Kageyama, we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but I just, uh. I don’t know, we really just connect. Whenever you hit me the ball and I’m like ‘gwaah’ I know you’re there for me, even if you growl and yell and shake me hard sometimes. What I’m trying to say is . . . I trust you a lot, so I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone else here.”

_He’s dying._

“I’m transgender.”

Suddenly Kageyama was back in their mother’s bathroom. Eyes caked with makeup, bow pulling their bangs away from their pale forehead, that list of terms related to what they believed themself to be on the phone in front of them. They recalled the definition.

**Transgender: Of, relating to, or being a person who identifies with or expresses a gender identity that differs from the one which corresponds to the person's sex at birth.**

Pink bedsheets, old softball trophy, being ashamed of the feminine objects in his room . . . It clicked. Shoyo Hinata, their best friend, had been born a female and was now a male.

“Say something.” Startled, Kageyama’s head shot up. Tears began leaking out of Hinata’s golden eyes. “Please say something, Tobio.” The heavy silence had been taken for disapproval.

“It’s okay.” _Say something reassuring, dumbass._ “You’re still the same person who takes my tosses, so it really doesn’t matter.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’m the worst friend ever._

Hinata stared up at Kageyama, his jaw loose and tears arcing down his cheeks. “Yo-You really don’t care?”

Overcome with emotion, the setter leaped to their feet and clenched their fists. “You’re my best friend and my spiker, and you’re still you. No matter your gender, you’re still an idiot and you can still jump high.” They tried to ignore the blush creeping up their ears, and prayed Hinata would ignore it too. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you and your secret, Hinata!.”

With a sob of relief, Hinata leaped off the bed and threw his arms around Kageyama’s waist. Surprised at first, it only took a moment for the taller teenager to wrap the boy in a fierce hug. A feeling of possessiveness twisted Kageyama’s heart. There was no way in hell they were letting anyone or anything douse their ray of sunshine.

“I’m glad you’re not dying,” Kageyama mumbled into Hinata’s orange mane. He smelled of oranges and banana bread, his usual aroma.

“What?”

“Fo-Forget it.”

From somewhere downstairs, Natsu shrieked in delight, reminding Kageyama that they needed to return home before their parents really started to worry about them. Reluctantly, the two stepped apart.

“So how . . . How does this relate to you missing practice?”

It was Hinata’s turn to blush, and his cheeks flushed a pink to rival his bedspread. He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his narrow hips.

“How much do you know about the menstrual cycle?” He asked, unashamedly. Kageyama’s narrow eyes widened as they struggled to find a reply. "You don't have to answer that, I can tell you already know enough to be uncomfortable.”

After a few moments of brief silence, the setter coughed. “So . . . You’ve got cramps? Is that it? You could’ve just said that instead of making me all worried, you airhead. Are you going to be at practice tomorrow?” Before Hinata could offer a reply, Kageyama’s phone buzzed in the pocket of their sweatpants. It was from their mother.

**Home, now please.**

“You have to go, don’t you?” His question was tinged with just the slightest disappointment. With a slight nod, Kageyama made to move toward the door, but Hinata’s voice stopped them. “Could you, I mean . . . Do you think we could hug again?” Turning, they saw their spiker staring with eager eyes and flushed cheeks. He looked so embarrassed for asking the question that Kageyama couldn’t help but smile and loop an arm over his narrow shoulders. The sensation of his arms winding around their waist sent goosebumps across their arms, but they struggled to shake it off.

“I really have to go,” they said softly, and Hinata pulled away.

“Sorry. Do your parents get mad when you’re late?”

_Furious._ “No, not really. I should hurry though, just in case. I’ll show myself out.” They turned on a heel before they could pull Hinata to their chest again, and raced down the stairs.

“See you again soon, Tobio,” Mrs. Hinata managed before the teen barreled out into the dark. Trees flashed past as they sprinted down the street. Unfortunately the night had warmed considerably since they had walked to their spiker’s house, and by the time they skidded onto their own porch their black hair was plastered to the sweaty skin of their forehead. A few seconds to catch their breath before they walked inside, and they stepped through the door six minutes after the text from their mother had arrived.

No lights were on in the foyer. Quietly, Kageyama slipped off their sneakers and padded upstair, careful to avoid the seventh step. It squeaked something terrible with just the slightest pressure, and there was no need to alert their parents to their arrival. Only when their bedroom door was closed securely did they relax. They set their bag down gently and flopped backwards on their gray bedsheets. After a bit of groping, their long fingers found the volleyball next to their pillow, and they soon fell into a comfortable rhythm of tossing the ball into the air and catching it with their fingertips.

_Transgender. How did I not know he was trans? Sometimes his manner is really feminine, and his face . . . That button nose, those incredible eyelashes, the way his top lip curls like the tip of an ice cream cone . . ._

A volleyball to the face brought Kageyama out of their reverie. Dazed and betrayed, they sat up and stared at the ball in their hands. _I . . . I missed. Thinking of Hinata for even a few minutes scrambles my brain and I can’t even focus on a simple exercises._ Reclining back down with a sigh, the setter rested the ball on their stomach and turned all their attention on breathing deep and even.

There was three quick raps on the closed door. “Tobio? Can I come in?”

They sat up, balancing the ball on their knee. “Yeah, sure.”

Kageyama’s mother was very short, with slanted Asian eyes and straight black hair. These last traits she had passed on to her child, though the height, athletic ability, and clear blue irises had come from their father. Both parents, however, were outgoing and social people with quick witticisms and a love of large crowds. These personality aspects were nonexistent in Kageyama, who feared strangers and could barely keep up a conversation. Needless to say, their parents were slightly disappointed in this awkward teenager, but couldn’t bring themselves to force them into social situations.

Crossing her arms, Atsuko Kageyama leaned against the doorframe and surveyed her child. “When did you get back?”

“About three seconds after you texted me.”

A slight furrowing in her brow caused butterflies in Kageyama’s stomach. Lying to their parents was not a common occurrence, but they couldn’t stand to get in trouble and possibly be barred from seeing Hinata.

As if she could read their mind, she asked: “You didn’t go over to Hinata’s after practice?”

They shook their head quickly. “He wasn’t at practice. I think he was sick.” She nodded, readily accepting the answer.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to his mother, there’s stuff we need to discuss.”

Sweat trickled down their spine. “Stuff? Like what?”

“Inviting them over for dinner,” she laughed, “don’t look so terrified, Tobio. Talking to them for one night won’t kill you. Besides, I know how close you and Hinata are, you can play video games or something while the adults talk about serious things.”

“I’m not a kid, mom,” they grumbled, lobbing the ball into the depths of their closet. “But that’s fine, I guess. Do you want me to ask Hinata at practice tomorrow?”

“Maybe I’ll just run over in the morning, they only live a few blocks away, right?”

_My ultra-busy mom “running over” to someone's house when she could just call? This is unheard of._

“Yeah, just off Davening Road.”

A silence filled the room as neither person knew what to say. That was probably the longest conversation shared between Kageyama and their mother in weeks, and they were both filled with a sense of vague disappointment now that it was over.

“Alright, sounds good.” Atsuko made to leave, then turned. “I’m glad you’re making friends, Tobio. I’m really proud of you.”

After she had gone, a small smile crept across the setter’s face.

_I’m really proud of you._

After a quick shower and a change into a clean shirt, Kageyama collapsed into their bed. While drifting off to sleep the only thing they could see was Hinata’s straight white teeth and golden eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the infamous "having the boyfriend and his family over for dinner" chapter. While writing this I couldn't stop listening to 'All I Want' by Kodaline, so that's why the end is so sappy, much apologies.

Ties, a sign of formality and respect for guests, were awfully uncomfortable for being such a social necessity. Kageyama jammed long fingers between the collar of their dress shirt and their flushed skin in a futile attempt to free their windpipe. The Hinata’s would be arriving shortly and their parents seemed to be on fast forward as they prepared dinner and straightened up the dining room.

“Why is this happening?” They groaned quietly as Atsuko Kageyama lit the candles on the centerpiece. “It’s just Hinata, you know.”

Their mother _tsk_ ed softly. “Hinata, his mother, and his younger sister. We need to make a good impression, Tobio. Besides, if you’re there all the time, we might as well get to know them so your little friend won’t be such a stranger in our home. Oh, dear, your tie is crooked.”

Kageyama obediently lifted their chin and allowed their mother to reach up and fiddle with the knot. Honestly it was all so _excessive._ There was absolutely no need to get all dressed up for _Hinata,_ and they found the tie to be even more choking than male pronouns.

“Can’t I just wear--”

The doorbell rang.

“They’re here!” Squealed Atsuko as she jerked on Kageyama’s tie. “David, you better be presentable,” she yelled into the kitchen, then lowered the volume. “Be a darling and grab the silverware, if you would, Tobio. I’ll let them, they must be dying of cold.” Within a blink she was at the door, warmly greeting the guests. Quickly, before Hinata could catch sight of them, Kageyama ducked into the kitchen to pull out forks and knives. The tie looped around their throat brought back memories of their conversation two practices ago, a day after Hinata had told the setter his secret.

_“Hinata,” they had murmured, tugging on the small boy’s sleeve. “We need to talk.” Hinata turned and went pale._

_“You look really scary, Kageyama,” he had whispered back, apprehension in those liquid gold eyes. “Like you’re planning something . . . Murder . . .”_

_“Hinata, you airhead I’m not going to murder anyone,” they growled. “Listen, what are you and your mom doing on Friday?”_

_Blinking slowly, he thought long and hard. “Nothing, I think.” Something passed across his face, and he grinned. “Are you going to take my mom out on a date?”_

_Their hand darted out and smacked the back of Hinata’s ginger head. “You’re driving me crazy. My parents want you, your mom, and Natsu to come over for dinner, dumbass. Also . . .”_

_From the back of the gym there was a sharp burst of laughter. Tanaka, Nishinoya, and Asahi were finally packing up their bags to leave. As they pushed open the gym door, an icy gust of wind swirled through room. It was oddly distracting, so Kageyama quickly straightened their thoughts before speaking to Hinata again._

_“Also,” they said seriously, drawing back the ginger’s attention, “since you trusted me enough to tell me your secret, I figure I should tell you mine.”  
Now Hinata was definitely interested. “You can tell me anything, Kageyama. You know I’ll like you no matter what.”_

No matter what. That’s reassuring. _“So, uh . . .” Awkwardly, the setter searched for the words. “I’m not a boy.”_

_Hinata blinked. “You mean you’re a girl?”_

_“No, no, not at all. I don’t have a gender.”_

_For a moment, nothing registered on the boy’s face, but then his customary grin nearly split his face in two. “You’re agender! Why’d it take you so long to tell me?” Without warning, the smile melted off his face. His hands shot out and grasped Kageyama’s biceps. Horror lit up those amber eyes. “I’ve been using the wrong pronouns this whole time . . .”_

_Trying not to smile, Kageyama gently grabbed the top of Hinata’s fluffy head and ruffled his hair. Their hands were so big they could palm his head as easily as a volleyball. “It’s fine, Hinata. You didn’t know. Really, it’s alright.”_

_Somehow the spiker still wasn’t convinced, but he relented. “If you say so . . . So when did you want my family over?”_

And just like that, Hinata had stopped using male pronouns or any word with a gender connotation. When Tsukishima would call them “King,” he had fearlessly stood up for his friend without giving away why the nickname was so hurtful. It was heaven.

But then he was here, at Kageyama’s house, seeing them in a button down, pale blue tie, and khaki slacks. Not so much like heaven anymore. However, Kageyama’s parents were very eager to meet Hinata’s mother and their child’s closest friend. Natsu was also a plus, seeing as their parents had always wanted a little girl, and her witty commentary would keep them all amused. Hopefully that would keep the focus away from Kageyama, or so they would hope.

“Tobio dear,” their mother’s voice rang out. “Why don’t you come in here and say hello to our guests?”

Kageyama swallowed hard and stepped into the foyer, rubbing their neck nervously. Hinata tried to stifle a laugh at his friend’s stiff expression and obvious discomfort and ended up choking. The dark green bowtie beneath his chin brought out the reddish highlights in his hair and made the white dress shirt seem as clean as snow. He looked very formal, even though he was struggling to breathe.

“Shoyo, are you alright?” His mother exclaimed, gently patting his back. “Is your bowtie too tight? I told you, two fingers inside the collar--”

“No,” he croaked, shaking his head so hard the setter was afraid his the color would leak out the ends of his hair, “I’m fine really.”

A deep flush crept up Kageyama’s neck and ears. Hinata was laughing at them, they were certain. Apparently they looked worse in the tie and black shirt than they previously suspected. _Damn Hinata . . ._ Their self-esteem was already at jeopardy from an entire night of male pronouns and embarrassing stories, and this was a fantastic start.

“Tobio, why you don’t take Hinata up to your room? We can call you down for dinner when it’s ready.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Atsuko popped up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Kageyama’s cheek, and the fierce blush returned. They seemed to be blushing a lot more lately, ever since Hinata had come into their life. Of course, one always seems more pink when they’re standing next to the sun.

As soon as Kageyama closed their door, Hinata burst into a fit of giggles. Fortunately he retained enough of his wits and peripheral vision to dodge the slap his friend aimed at the back of his head, and he struggled to stem his laughter.

“Why are you laughing at me?” Kageyama demanded, now more angry than embarrassed.

“I’m not laughing at _you,_ stupid. I’m laughing at myself.”

The stress in the setter’s shoulders dissolved. “Wh-What?”

“I’m laughing at myself, Kageyama. You look really nice, and I felt weird thinking that, and you know that when I get uncomfortable I laugh or make weird noises, or--”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t think I looked nice though . . .” 

“What do you mean?” Hinata cocked his head in that familiar, quizzical way. “Do you not think you look good?”

“Well . . .” It was hard to explain. Both teenagers sat down side-by-side on Kageyama’s bed before they went on. “Whenever I look in the bathroom in morning, I’m in pajamas, right? Pajamas are pretty . . . Non-binary? But then as soon as I put on clothes I’m either perceived as a boy or not a boy. Clothes pretty much decide everything . . . ”

They paused, not sure if anything was making sense until Hinata quickly motioned for them to continue. 

“Alright, so I put on clothes and then I’m whatever people see. But whenever I look in a mirror, it’s only me. Not girl or boy, just . . . Just a tall awkward teenager in a tie.”

Immediately after finishing, Kageyama ducked their head and blushed fiercely. 

“You’ve never said that to anyone else before, have you?” Hinata asked softly. “Any of that.”

Not trusting their voice, they nodded slowly, continuing to stare at the hands folded in their lap, pressed between their long legs. Looking out the corner of their eye, they became acutely aware of how close Hinata was sitting. 

“Hey. Look at me.” 

After a moment, Kageyama raised their head. A dull heat blossomed in their chest at the intensity and adoration evident in Hinata’s golden eyes.

“It doesn’t matter who you are. Er, I mean, of course it matters but whoever or whatever you choose to be you’re still Kageyama, and I’ll still always be there to spike your tosses. Okay?”

Unbidden tears pooled in their navy blue eyes. Quickly, hoping that that their friend hadn’t noticed, they swiped the back of their hand across both eyes and sniffed discreetly. 

“Do you need a tissue?” Hinata offered helpfully. 

“I’m not crying, you dumbass,” Kageyama growled, turning away. 

“You know what my mom says is the best cure for tears?”

Now that their regular stoic expression was back, Kageyama felt it was safe to look over at their friend. “I told you, I’m not--”

As they turned, they realized the small boy was much closer than he had been a few minutes earlier. Immediately after this observation, the narrow space closed and their lips met.

Hinata’s mouth was warm and dry, and so familiar Kageyama had to wonder if they hadn’t done this before. Their eyes were closed, but they could feel his fingers clutching the tie, and their bodies were together, their chests brushing against one another. Hinata was in their lap, legs around their waist, and the setter’s fingers were burrowing in that flaming orange hair. There wasn’t enough time, their parents were downstairs but _fuck it_ Hinata was the sun and Kageyama had lived their whole life in the black of night. 

Their kisses were frantic, rushed, and neither one wanted it to end. Eventually they paused to breathe. Foreheads together, Hinata's shoulders relaxing, they panted into the same air. 

"You taste exactly like you smell," Hinata whispered. 

"How's that?" Mumbled Kageyama, not sure why they were being quiet but also reluctant to shatter the atmosphere. Dishes clinked downstairs. 

"I don't know how to describe it . . . Like chocolate, I guess." The setter laughed softly, but Hinata went on. "No, hush, but also like salonpas. You smell like chocolate and salonpas."

"I taste like a volleyball gym?" 

Hinata pressed his mouth against theirs, proving that there was nothing wrong with that.

"Dumbass," Kageyama mumbled around his lips.

"Shoyo?” Both teens jumped at Natsu’s voice coming from right outside the door. “Mom wants you and Toby to come downstairs, it’s time for dinner.” Her footsteps pounded down the stairs, allowing them to relax. Good thing she hadn’t decided to come in. 

“Toby?” Hinata snickered. In response, he was rudely dumped out of their lap as Kageyama stood up and stretched. 

“I guess we should go downstairs then. Our parents are going to be wondering why we’re late, and they might ask. Oh. What do we say if they ask what we were doing? We can’t--” 

“Kageyama.”

Hinata was staring at him, concern in his eyes. “You . . . You’re not regretting that, are you? The kiss?" 

Their jaw dropped slightly open, but nothing in their head seemed to make sense. _Regret? He thinks I regret kissing him?_

“Hinata,” they laughed lightly, “That will forever be the best moment in my life. How could I ever . . . I will _never_ regret anytime we spend together.”

Tears pooled in the ginger’s eyes and his lower lip wobbled dangerously. 

Kageyama huffed and shook their head. “Don’t cry, you airhead, let’s just go downstairs.” 

Even so, as Hinata passed by, sniffling pitifully, the setter ruffled his hair affectionately. They may be rough in expressing their feelings, but no one could claim they didn’t try.

\------------------------------------------

“Oh, and you should’ve seen little Tobio whenever he got into the bath! We had to get _four_ rubber mats so he wouldn’t destroy the tile when he splashed about.”

Laughter erupted around the table; all save Kageyama who managed to sink farther into their seat. With each childhood story out of their parent’s mouth, their blush had intensified and their chair had swallowed them more and more. At this point, they just wanted to vanish into thin air and forget all of the missed pronouns and horrifying tales of how much Tobio enjoyed sitting on the couch naked. Hinata seemed to be enjoying himself, the bastard. However, when he noticed his friend’s discomfort at their parent’s disregard for proper pronouns, he began tapping toes with Kageyama under the table. It progressed into a full-out game of footsie before Atsuko noticed and slapped Kageyama’s shoulder lightly, effectively ending their fun. Now the two had resorted to making odd faces at each other whenever the parents were distracted. Hinata was particularly good at this, as he harbored the ability to wiggle his ears without touching them so his hands were free to tug at various parts of his face. 

“I guess we’re lucky Shoyo was always a docile child,” Mrs. Hinata sighed, glancing appreciatively at her son. “And just as precious as can be. You should see the baby pictures!”

All of the color drained from Hinata’s face. It took a while before Kageyama made the connection that in any of those pictures Hinata would be female, and then began to panic for a partially different reason. If their parents saw those pictures and discovered that their best friend was transgender, they would never let them see each other. Knowing them, they’d probably pull Kageyama off the volleyball team. 

“Ma-Maybe another time, Mom,” they blurted, bolting to their feet. “Do you want me to get the dishes?”

David Kageyama blinked, then smiled widely. “See, Atsuko, I told you this Hinata was a good influence on our son.” Both teenagers winced. “If you could take the dishes to the kitchen, that’d be very helpful, Tobio.”

“I can help too,” Hinata offered, already standing and reaching for Natsu’s empty plate. “I’m sure Kageyama and I can handle the dishes. Thank you very much for dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Kageyama.” 

“No problem, Hinata,” Atsuko beamed. “Feel free to come over anytime, our home is yours, no matter what.”

**\-------------------------------------------------**

“You didn’t have to help with the dishes, you know,” Kageyama mumbled, gently bumping their hip into Hinata’s. 

“I really didn’t mind,” sniffed Hinata, tossing back his mane of orange hair against the slight wind that had kicked up along the dark street. “It seemed like we were a family, yeah? Just cleaning the dishes after dinner, you washing and me drying . . .”

“You only dried because you’re too lazy to rinse off a few plates.” 

“Hey! I was a guest in _your_ house, it was only natural for me to take the easier job,” he countered. After Kageyama’s snicker had faded into the warm night air, silence fell between them as a familiar tune. Mrs. Hinata had left right after dinner to put Natsu to bed, leaving her son behind, but there was no protest about that. It just gave them a chance to walk home together.

Hinata reached out and took Kageyama’s hand.

“I feel like we’re in a movie,” he whispered. “Look at the sky.” 

Obediently, Kageyama stopped walking and tilted their chin up, gazing into the endless labyrinth of stars and dust hanging over their heads. It was understandable, what Hinata had said about being in a movie. No clouds blocked out the infinitesimally deep sky, and suddenly, inexplicably, Kageyama felt smaller than they ever had. How could they be worried about school and family and volleyball when they were only one speck of matter in an infinite wasteland of cosmic dreams? The longer their eyes swept across the black ocean above their head, the lighter they felt until the shoes on their feet were no longer touching the ground. But still they didn’t float away, and Kageyama didn’t know why. All they wanted was to drift among the heavens and forget _everything._ But . . . Not everything. 

They blinked. Something was in their hand. A smaller hand, as warm and gentle as a baby bird, remained intertwined with their long fingers and with a jolt they turned to look down at Hinata, who was still standing at their side. Above a soft smile, his golden eyes swam with tears.

“Hinata,” Kageyama blurted, surprised. “Why are you crying?”

“I like looking at you,” he gulped, the tears overflowing onto his pale cheeks. “You’re beautiful and I’ve never had something really beautiful before, I’m sorry-” 

Hinata’s voice broke on the apology, and Kageyama pulled him into their arms. 

Dimly, their chest feeling remarkably empty, they stroked the back of that bright orange head and wondered where Hinata had been all of their life. 

“Please don’t worry,” they mumbled over his quiet sobs. “I’m yours. You’re all I want.”


End file.
